


Today

by sandwastesinthevoidofmychest



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Don't copy to another site, Holidays, Love Bites, M/M, Not Beta Read, POV Alternating, Soft Smut Sunday, they're so in love, waking up together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2020-05-17
Packaged: 2021-03-03 00:14:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 764
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24235636
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest/pseuds/sandwastesinthevoidofmychest
Summary: Waking up together in the Lake District, Mycroft and Greg are unaware that they're thinking up the exact same plan for the day.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Mycroft Holmes/Lestrade
Comments: 8
Kudos: 106
Collections: Soft Smut Sunday





	Today

**Author's Note:**

> For tumblr's @softsmutsunday's prompt this week, which was 'bite'. 
> 
> Enjoy <3

Waking up next to Greg is nothing short of a miracle. 

Legs tangled with each other, Greg’s head on his chest, warm skin against skin. 

Mycroft would never leave the cocoon they’ve made from the duvet if given the choice. 

Greg often sleeps in the crook between Mycroft’s shoulder and neck, and Mycroft has gradually gotten used to feeling Greg’s breaths on the sensitive skin there. It’s comforting beyond belief, it’s something he never thought he would need. 

Yet, he misses it desperately when they have to sleep in their own respective flats.

Mycroft has gotten a key cut for Greg, but he’s trying to find the perfect occasion to tell him to use it permanently. 

He wants to say _‘Sell that flat of yours and move in with me. Let’s wake up together every day. It’s getting harder to wake without you in my bed. I want to see your face when I come home, I want to be able to cook you dinner. I want to be in the same room as you even if we’re doing completely different things. I want you, for better or worse.’_

The proposal sits snugly in his chest, radiating warmth as the birds of the Lake District usher in the morning outside their window. He smiles into Greg’s silver hair, pressing a kiss amongst the disarray that he’s proudly responsible for. 

Mycroft closes his eyes, he can still feel the smile on his lips. He won’t be able to keep this from Gregory for much longer, and he doesn’t mind in the slightest. 

They’re on holiday, together all the time, why not ask him here? 

* * *

Greg wakes slowly, leisurely. 

Birds chirp happily outside their cottage. 

_Our cottage_ Greg thinks to himself with a smile. _Ours._

He’s curled up in Mycroft’s arms, safe and secure. 

He’d gladly stay here for the rest of his existence. 

Screw London, they’d be happy here. No murders to deal with, no political drama. 

Just him and Mycroft. 

The thought sends his heart racing. 

There’s a ring box hidden among his boxers in his suitcase and every day he’s been so close to taking it out and presenting it to Mycroft after sex. But he hasn’t, it’s taken all his restraint. 

Today they’re going on a nature trail, one that ends in a quaint village where they’ll stop for lunch.

He won’t ask in front of people, he’ll ask on the trail either heading out of back. 

He knows there’ll be the perfect moment. 

Thinking about Mycroft being his fiancé by the time they get back to this sanctuary tonight is enough to make him smile so wide it hurts. 

“You’re awake.” Mycroft’s voice is soft and Greg can hear the smile in his voice. 

Greg lifts his head from where it rests beneath Mycroft’s chin, so he can see Mycroft’s face and kiss him, of course, kiss him like Mycroft’s lips are his only source of air. 

_Today,_ he thinks. _Today._

* * *

Kissing turns to touching, turns to rutting. 

Their cocoon even warmer than before. 

Mycroft can feel Greg’s smile against his lips, and he hopes Greg can feel his own. 

“Gregory?” Mycroft asks as Greg’s lips trail down his neck. 

“Darlin’?” Greg pulls away to meet Mycroft’s eyes. 

Mycroft caresses his cheek, “Mark me, my love. On my neck.”

He hears Greg’s breath stutter, “Love bite? But darlin’, we usually don’t where it’s visible.” 

Mycroft smiles back at him, “We’re on holiday. I want everyone to know I’m yours.”

Greg shakes his head in amazement, “You never fail to surprise me, darlin’.” 

_Just you wait._ Mycroft thinks to himself with a smug smile. _I’m going to ask you to marry me later._

“May I give you one too?” Mycroft asks daringly. 

Greg’s are already dark with arousal, but somehow they manage to darken further. “Anything you want, darlin’. Anything you want, I’m yours.”

* * *

Their lovemaking is slow, reverent. 

They both notice the element of excitement that sits around them. 

Standing by the bathroom sink after their shared shower, Greg wraps his arms around Mycroft’s naked waist as they both look at each other in the mirror, smiling when they meet each other’s eyes. 

Mycroft raises a hand to trail over the light bruise on his neck, lips twitching with pride. 

_I’m his._

Greg leans in to Mycroft, turning his head slightly, his bruise is darker than Mycroft’s, but he doesn’t care. He’ll gladly show it off. 

_His, only his._

They meet their gazes again, eyes shining, smiles that both say _today_ , neither knowing that the other is thinking the exact same. 

**Author's Note:**

> tumblr: @lostallsenseofcontrol  
> twitter: @lostallsenseof1


End file.
